The DNA of a reverie,

That catapulted a man in a convertible

Driving down a dusty road in California,

With no sunroof on top.

You dreamed of samba dancing,

The leading man, and the lagging maiden,

Making rows that protract

And curve and fit into a bona fide zipper.

It was your dream that made

The hard, easy; the laborious, quick.

Counts into countless.


Unlike Whitcomb Judson

Who invented the trouser zipper,

You will be the one who made

DNA not just our inevitability

But also how inside a

Little transparent PCR tube

There are catalysts, that once

Sat on top of Old Faithful.


And I guess what you showed

To the world, was a higher

Fidelity than love, and it only takes

One gene to make breasts cancerous,

Cyanobacteria toxic, as

Evolution perfects God’s design.


The Olympus microscope,

Is now a little transparent tube, that grows

And grows, until the fire in the belly stops,

And the panorama becomes

Forever an alphabet of four letters.

The picture postcards from God,

Are now reads thanks to you.


We are foot soldiers of your battalion,

Wearing a white lab coat, priming fate.

How you made dads responsible,

Criminals locked up, and diseases coded.

And all it took was for Lilliputians

To extend their palms, and say,


I want to hold your hand.




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